Well, here you go, the second in a line of Res fic's. I'm pretty chuffed that this only took like two-three days, writing fanfic's are a lot easier than writing original works. I could probably make this a lot longer or refine a few paragraphs but I'm quite pleased with most of it. I would love your comments and even the harshest will be well recieved.

Wind Res – istance

Part 1

Res couldn’t put sense to the things his classmates were talking about. His second lesson at the Tunnel Theatre had been stopped early over weather fears. There were gale force winds outside and word was they weren’t keeping public transport an option much longer.

So after he gathered his belongings he was in the process of leaving without any ritualistic farewell when he caught sight of the students who were most familiar to him. Manny the fennec and Duggan the goat in amongst others, gabbing away and enjoying themselves.

It shone on him that leaving in the manner he was set on might not go down well in future. So he lingered a number of extra minutes, never feeling entirely comfortable with trying to be there but an inner voice said that there was something worth listening out for. Unfortunately he’d joined the talking at such a time that it was pretty hard to gain an idea of where it all started and even harder to know where to put in his opinion in. He feared he’d sound something of a simpleton if he chimed in or he’d cause an awful silence. So he kept inside the physical circle but not the mental one, thinking perhaps they’d move on to something new, but they didn’t and it put in his head that maybe he’s even more noticeable for just standing around. They’d understand, given the conditions, why he’d leave in a hurry….wouldn’t they?

Just when he felt really lost for an answer someone tapped on his shoulder. He spun around, simpering with an impulsive ‘Hey!’.

It was Hazel. The Sawyer to his Danny. As brown as her name, red eyed and obviously fed a little too well. She wasn’t a big girl in the chunky, leaning over her folds sort of way…she was more like a teddy bear….a little round and really adorable….

‘Hey!’ she said back, one flap of her fox shaped hat fell across her mouth as her she tilted her head to focus on the group behind them ‘Did I pull you out of anything?’. ‘I was about to pull myself out’. She rolled her head back up and laughed at that. Her cute guffaw knocked him out of sorts, what she was laughing at he didn’t particularly know but it was an interesting compliment.

‘Do you want to grab a seat with me?’ asked Hazel, leaning to one side to inspire motion. ‘Sure, let’s go’ said Res following it up with a nervous laugh which continued to plague him until they took to a crimson, leather bound couch facing a long, simple table.

Someone must’ve entered the building for a gust blew down through the upward tunnel entrance that led to sliding doors.

‘Breezy!’ Hazel commented. ‘Yea, it’s really bad…’ said Res. She adopted a rather good accent ‘Not a day for British nannies’. ‘Um…why’s that?’. ‘My mom says it when it’s windy, she thinks a lot about Mary Poppins’. ‘Mary Poppins…I’ve no idea who that is’. ‘Really…I thought that’d be pretty well known’ she suddenly found something about him obscure (and what took her so long is anyone’s guess) ‘You feeling okay?’. Res wasn’t sure what was wrong so he studied himself and noticed he was shuddering and twiddling incessantly…wow…that’s a weird thing for oneself not to feel…. ‘Sorry, you’ll find that I’m not good at coming up with things to talk about’ he finally said in a small voice. ‘I just thought you were maybe cold…’ she arched forward, regret funnelling through her eyes ‘Please don’t think too much about what I said, it’s ok to be nervous’. ‘Nervous….! Nervous is a marzipan sponge cake compared to what I’m feeling!’. She laughed at this also and after a moment he too could see the humour in it.

And even though he believed he’d blown it she kept on talking to him after they stopped laughing. They wandered into random yet completely natural territories, starting with cakes then the Christmas market stalls around Jackson Square where she bought her hat and then somehow onto a true story Res could share about a brain damaged pigeon.

‘…So while others heard just a little ding on the girl’s bike he heard the booming toll of church bells and then went completely nuts. The last I saw he flew down the underground railway passage and I suppose into the darkness of the tunnels’. ‘Poor thing’. ‘Yea, it’s a terrible story’.

Since when can I tell stories, thought Res…that’s just…something I totally shouldn’t be doing…yet here we are at this point where I’m actually leading the conversation and I haven’t giving away how weird or pathetic I am normally…how did someone like me get here….

There came a few blinks of thick, unbreakable silence, then for no reason Hazel began to do a sort of hula dance and mumble the words to Hollywood, the opening song from Cat’s Don’t Dance, and soon they were both singing through it.

~ Dig…that…face ~ You ain’t seen nothing like it an…ny…place ~ it’s right above the movie screen ~ if you know what I mean ~

Manny the fennec came around suddenly to make their duet a trio. When they stopped they gave each other a round of applause then Manny said, ‘I just came by to say we’re heading to “The Tea Room”, the weather’s bad I know but we just want to know if you feel like coming’. ‘I can’t sorry, I’m going home soon’ said Hazel. ‘That’s fine, how about you Res?’. ‘Sure, maybe, but don’t hang about for me’. ‘We will anyway, see you in a blink then’ and with that he returned to the circle he broke from.

‘Wasn’t that nice’ said Hazel. ‘Yeah…they’ve really made me complete…’ he shoved his paws at his head ‘Aw jeez...what are you supposed to take from that!’. ‘That you feel things very deeply because you’ve lived your life without certain experiences’. Res took one hand away ‘That’s a…a good throw actually’.

‘You don’t have to apologize for yourself,’ said Hazel ‘you’re liked and that’s the main thing. You’ll find a lot of good natured animals in the acting world…I think that’s because they have to know how to embody a different persona so the training they go through has taught them how to act like what might just be the perfect person’.

‘Yea, I’ve been seeing that…’ said Res, returning to that new and interesting comfort zone, ‘then I hope I don’t destroy the visage you’ve built in your head about me but like you said its never used to be easy for me to connect to people and make friends. It’s still a bit weird to me, like, I wonder why I deserve the attention they’re giving me. You know what, you pretty much said why that is so I’ll stop talking’.

‘Just so you know you’ve been the best company I’ve had in a while too’ said Hazel, ‘Well, you should get going I think’. ‘I can stay…you know…I don’t have to leave…uh…yea so…uh…’.

‘No, honestly, go off with your friends. I think I saw my mom’s car roll up a second ago. But let me just slip you this’. She pulled from her pink, spaghetti strand purse a business card, enriched on one side with a crimson nine tailed fox against a black background and smothered with information on the other.

‘Nifty…’ said Res, impressed by the illustration. ‘You’d think so…’ said Hazel, the seal on her bag clicked, locking it in place, ‘I have about a thousand of the things and I’m not famous enough to have that many, that kind of sucks. Not a lot of the stuff on it is true either. It’s just a load of pipe dreams. But that is my cell number so feel free to dial it sometime’.

‘I’ll be sure to get in touch…’ he took a second look at the information and asked ‘What’s a Nekobus…?’. ‘A surgical option…and I won’t say more than that…’.

They soon said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

Half an hour after arriving at the tea room Res found himself back in a familiar place, outside the circle of chatter. Looking back with fondness on all the nuances he witnessed and speaking under his breath the things he would’ve said differently. Steam swam from the hot cup of cinnamon tea in his paws and gave him a slight runny nose. As he reached for a tissue he continued to lean down and dig into his open rucksack to pull out his cell and Hazel’s card.

He feared she’d be bothered by him getting in touch this early so he wrote her a simple text message saying “Hey, it’s Res. Just testing your number” and pressed send. A few minutes went by then his phone lit up, shaking across the table a few inches before he reacted.

The reply was “What took you so long?”.

Res stared gratefully at the message...…

‘Somebody ~ likes you!!’.

Res jerked backwards, eyes firm in his head. He looked to his friends, all of whom were so occupied that couldn’t possibly have spoken in that singsong way. ‘Flip me over!’ the voice appeared again. Res looked down at his hand and after a blink turned Hazel’s card over. On the back side the illustration of the fox had turned a yellowish white colour and was moving independently.

‘Wassup old friend!’ said Kitsune, saluting himself.

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

On every roof icicles as long as guitars hung off the underside of their rain gutters, lighting up like crooked rainbows. A mishap on a road out of town meant that the cobblestone paths could not be salted and therefore each small business had closed till a time of thaw. Outside the town in the vast countryside, deep within a heavy lot of deciduous trees an old and stalwart bungalow dwelt across a garden with knolls of dead leaves.

The little cat had made a few piles after an honest effort. It was the first winter of his life. He once spent a few minutes in a chest freezer when his granny let go of the door to check the dishwasher. She remembered him eventually and they had fish steaks for dinner. Today was about that cold but of course this time he was so well wrapped he anyone would think he was a puppet made of thinsulate gear.

His ears twitched. Afar there was the pitter-patter crunch and squelch of the land sinking beneath small but heavy paws. He stood on the spiky end of his hand rake so the pole stood straight against his side. A few blinks later he saw him and let out a grunt of knowing. His feral friend Tuneski the fox cub came over every afternoon to play but a lot of the time to fill his stomach first. Today was a smidge different. As Tuneski came within a few meters he started one of his routines that would warm the frozen leaves so it’d look like they shed tears.

‘Res!’ croaked Tuneski, stepping rigidly on two feet while balancing himself up with a stick, ‘Oh! How long I’ve walked to see your precious face!’.

‘Are you kidding me!’ said Res, curling the right side of his mouth, ‘You came here twenty minutes ago and said “Hey, why don’t you rake my den?” and then I gave you a plastic bag so you could clean it yourself….and now you have a stick!’.

‘I’ve been through many perils since we parted ways!’ said Tuneski, drawing his face towards a dramatic fist. ‘I finished freeing my sanctum and went foraging with fervour. But finding food is far from fun. It’s hard, horrendously hard. I tried to tango with a titmouse, but that was too troublesome. Catching Catfish was a calamity. Busy beavers bit me back. I nearly nabbed a nice hen at Nacknayers farm, but not before nine of its neighbours nabbed me. So now, I have but no choice but to beg of you…sustenance…provide sustenance for this wretched body!’.

‘Impressive!’ Res exclaimed, ‘But still no!’.

‘Please, you’re the only one I can turn to’.

‘Look, Tune…you really can’t come here as much as you think…Gram-Gram’s not in a good way, she’s bedridden, and the stores are closed because of all the ice’.

Res pulled on his gloved fingertips, looking away in contemplation. ‘Well…if you…rake some leaves for me…I’ll see if we have any cookies…’.

‘Muuhh!’ groaned Tuneski, holding a hand under his abdomen.

‘And…a soda…’.

‘Muuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhh!!!!!!’.

‘And the leg of pork she wanted to throw out!’.

‘You’re a good friend…how would I ever do without you…?’.

‘Yea, just how would you’.

Res handed him the rake and headed towards home. He wiped his feet on the mat and started opening doors. He didn’t feel good about this, these were times when they really had to be careful of what they use. Why was he so amiab….

‘GLUH!’ cried Res on the moment he stepped back outside. He looked upon a miracle with eyes as wide as barn doors. All the leaves, every one of the thousands still to be raked were gathered into a dozen new piles as high as six feet tall. Tuneski lay reposed against the pile closest to the house, waiting on his return.

‘H-H-How did…’. ‘Muffin button!’ said Tuneski.

Part 2.5

‘….Gasp!’ cried Res dramatically, stripped down to his scarf loincloth and rake spear, ‘Who would have thought that my mortal enemy, the infamous Saso, would be in league with the Pampeen empire…’.

‘Haha!’ laughed Tuneski, standing above him on a fallen tree and wearing Res’s jacket like a cape. ‘Not just in league Parnok, but I have buried their king alive under the ruins of Illystos and married their queen!’.

‘Fiend! Then I accept this ridiculous Hoke Nokhad challenge, if it’ll put you to an end and bring peace to the prid…’.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

‘Shoot!’ said Res, looking down at his digital watch, ‘I’m sorry but Gram-Gram needs her pills. I’ll be just a few minutes…’. ‘Sure thing!’ shouted Tuneski with a salute, losing his cheer once Res left.

Res ran into the kitchen, remembering to wipe his feet a few steps too late and causing a streak of mud as he halted. He cleaned this up first with a damp cloth and climbed a stool to the medicine cupboard, taking down a long blue box with seven small compartments dated with each day of the week. Looking to the calendar to remind himself that it was Wednesday he took the red pill and the white tablet out of the right space. He filled a glass up with water and headed upstairs to his grandmother’s bedroom.

‘Pill time Gram-Gram!’ said Res, pushing the door open with his tail end he came a few feet inside and stopped. ‘Sorry I’m a few minutes more than normal…uh…I dragged in some mud and…didn’t want you to be mad...are you mad?’.

She lay in her four poster bed, with a book on what would be her lap, still as an ironing board without saying a word to him.

He approached her beside cabinet with a smirk and placed the items down. ‘Did you stay up reading till three again…you night owl…these pills must taste something awful if you go to those lengths to avoid them…I don’t blame you’.

He climbed up on the bed and bounced lightly on top of her legs, raising his voice. ‘Gram-Gram! Piiiilll tiiiimme!’.

She didn’t move…she couldn’t…..

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

I really appreciate the comment. This forum is far different to any I've ever been on, there's this general good naturedness about the site whereas you always get at least one cynical know-it-all on others. Maybe I've just not been here long enough. Anyway thank you for continuing to read this and there should be another update by christmas.

If I haven't made it perfectly clear part two takes place when Res was a kitten, long before the game between Kitsune, Pete and Dragon ever started. "I play in your universes because I like you guys". That line between from Dog days of Summer between Kitsune and King gives me the impression that he's been running around the earth for a lot longer than we know. I have this ongoing feeling that he and Res met at some point in the past but until recently i couldnt think of what their connection could be.

It's a fun little advantage that Res and Kitsune haven't been mentioned in the series since they were introduced. I've never written fanfiction that's cannon until the author brings them back.

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

So I see you want to show your imagination about how Res was rescued by miss Auburn and how they worked on Pridelands . Since I read your fan fiction, I knew you would go for this. That's why you intrigued me with this suspending ending of Part 2.5.

Now you know you can't stop writing, do you?

JohnWillow wrote:

If I haven't made it perfectly clear part two takes place when Res was a kitten, long before the game between Kitsune, Pete and Dragon ever started. "I play in your universes because I like you guys". That line between from Dog days of Summer between Kitsune and King gives me the impression that he's been running around the earth for a lot longer than we know. I have this ongoing feeling that he and Res met at some point in the past but until recently i couldnt think of what their connection could be.

I'll tell you an advice. Sometimes it's better to not reveal your animus, so your readers can try to guess and speculate about their suppositions and then wait in tension were they right or not. Also teasing your reader like that can keep them attracted to your story more, because if you tell them much more than you should, their interest to find out what will happen next will be lowered since they will know it already from you.

JohnWillow wrote:

writing fanfic's are a lot easier than writing original works.

I'll tell it from my personal experience. At the beginning, it seems easy. But in time, perception changes If you will hold strongly to your work and a lot of time will pass, you won't believe how much you've done

_________________

I'm a bookworm!Currently reading: "The Three Musketeers" by Alexandre Dumas

Hey, here's the new update and i'm sorry they've taken so long. I haven't tried my best with these because i want to get through them quickly for i'll soon have a horde of homework and other things to concentrate on.

Part 3

Res stopped his hand above the shaft of the well and took in the details of the photograph he kept in his breast pocket. It was one of him and his grandmother together…a summer shot of them out on the porch swing…he was smaller…she was there…so much love contained in a paper thin shape….

He never expected to see this photo again. The only time in twenty-two months he had seen it was framed and propped up on the living room book shelf and this morning he was handed a letter by old Nacknayer while he was in the barn checking for eggs. He never got mail. At first he thought it might be from one of the doctors that took him to the shelter but it had no office stamp. It was just a simple envelope with his name on it.

In a few blinks he turned the photo over where it was written,

THE WELL. TONIGHT. SAY THESE WORDS INTO THE SHAFT.

“I WISH TO SPEAK TO THE DRAGON COUNCIL”

He read those words to himself then leaned over the shaft and spoke them to the darkness. In a moment there was a heavy grinding sound and in the midpoint of the well a strip of light was born along the stonework…a chunk of the wall swung outward and until a short cord went tight.

Res had been told of this bunker during orientation and that it was built by the humans in case of an emergency but it had been lying empty since they died of tuberculosis, but seeing it open for the first time was quite a surprise. He spent a few more seconds in awe and then attached a bucket to the rope, went to the crank and lowered the rope till it came to a shuddering halt deep beneath the water. Scared he might not stop falling he hopped up on the ledge of the well and sat holding the rope for thirty seconds, breathing fast and deep, before finally hopping onto it and after another thirty seconds of gathering his courage he lowered himself toward the opening.

When he could see into the space he was amazed by how large it was, enough to hold many modern comforts including a camping cooler, a TV set and lots of empty soda cans, snack wrappers, none of which was farm property….and….

‘Well, well, well….see what I did there’ said Tuneski throwing himself on a bean bag. ‘Shut the door and make yourself comfortable’.

Res laughed with umbrage and did everything in that order.

‘Wow!! I’m digging those threads, a bit like Puss in boots!!’ said Tuneski.

The clothes Res was wearing were anything but cool or individual, every cat on Nacknayer wears the same cotton work shirt, tall black felt hat and dark vest. He supposed it was unusual for animals to be so dressed unless they were a supermodel’s Chihuahua. He only wore them here to blend in on the way here.

‘Can I try that hat?’ asked Tuneski as Res prepared to put in on the table. Without halting his previous motion Res pushed the hat along the table and it spun off into Tuneski’s waiting hands. He put it on like a cowboy, slow and with a look of certainty.

‘Cool’ said Res with no clear emotion.

‘I’ve got plenty of food if you want it’ said Tuneski, adding with his palm flat and raised ‘and just so there’s no confusion, I won’t require such services like I did before. I just hoped you’d use your time off to be with me’.

Not required….must have himself a little furry investor….

‘Do you have orange soda?’.

‘Coming right up’ said Tuneski. He reached for one off the floor and opened it for him.

Res took a sip, savoured the taste and raised his head up as he swallowed.

‘That’s good…sweet kitty that’s good!’ said Res, ‘We drink nothing but boiled well water around here’.

‘So how’s this all been on you? Your own house, food every day....’.

‘I guess it’s, um…safe, you know. It’s not supposed to be fun work. I’m only getting the mundane stuff like fetching water and cleaning up after the animals, and the chef really hates me, wants to throw me in the stew, but other things have been interesting. I went to their school for a while…which was full of fun facts…I don’t agree with some of the beliefs but it’s all…yea…that’s all…’.

‘Have you made friends’.

‘No…well…I talk to the cows…don’t know what to tell you there…at first everyone was all “Let’s pick on the shelter cat” and that ran for a while and I didn’t try to quell it, now I just feel like keeping out of harm’s way if that makes sense’.

‘I get you…do you still put those stories together….?’.

‘Yea…whenever I can’.

‘Let’s do a bit of Res-PG sometime’.

‘You’re on’ laughed Res, knocking cans with him.

They spent the entire night together swapping stories, roleplaying and drinking themselves under the table. When there was not much left in their tanks they fell asleep to The Cat Returns on Tuneski’s stolen disc player. Halfway through the movie they overheard a rich, permeating sound from outside, a long way away…..

Res sprang up in horror. ‘Oh cat! Oh cat!!!’. He ran awkwardly to the door and rammed his body against it several times. ‘That’s the wake up bell! And I’m not in bed! Oh cat!! How the cuss do you *poof* get this ooooo-pen….’.

As if by magic Res was no longer in the dank old cellar but sitting up in bed ranting to his sheets. The wake up bell still gonging away from the steeple across the field and out his window he could see other cats walking towards the dining hall. It was a bright new morning. His head was clear of intoxication but filled with a moderate amount of headache and drowsiness. He tried to make sense of everything as he got dressed but it just wasn’t logical. On his way downstairs he stopped and gawked at the ground ahead.

Dozens of orange soda cans had been organized into words on the living room,

OR WAS IT

3.33

After rushing through breakfast Res hurried along to the barn to get on with his chores. He expected a good scolding for being tardy but he couldn’t leave those soda cans lying around close to an open window. As he zoomed past another building his title was suddenly called out by a young sister cat leaning over the balustrade of a short staircase,

‘Sister,’ he said, posing against the railing, ‘there ain’t a darn thing I don’t know about grooming!’.

‘Truly,’ she said ecstatically, caressing his arm, ‘then canst thou oil thy tongue and share what ye know among babes?’.

Putting on his coolest face Res adjusted his stance. ‘I think I could spare a few minutes’.

She turned her head and kissed his cheek.

‘Cat bless you!’ she declared, taking him by the hand she led him up the steps and through the open doorway at which point she said ‘Good news children! I have found a speaker!’.

‘Yay!’ cried the class of a dozen kittens.

Res blushed brightly. ‘Uh, sister…’. He was about to tell her that he was full of stale bread but when she turned to him he found himself powerless against her beauty. ‘How many stories do I need tell’.

‘Just the one, that’s all we’ve time for’ she replied into his ear.

‘One…got it!’ said Res, with a wink, comforted by that fact. He found his cool again and strutted to the empty space at the front of the class where so many great males had stood before him as a child and delivered the end of class stories with effulgent mastery over the content. He turned to the children and only then to realize….his knowledge amounted to a loaf of stale bread…..

‘So…’ he squeaked, ‘uh…does anyone, have a story they’d like to hear?’.

The room was quiet like the dead until Sister Pollock rescued him.

‘This is their first time receiving the good word, why don’t you start with the Salmon Blessing’.

Res raised his brow. ‘Salmon Blessing…uh…and lo…he did eat the Salmon and uh then lick his fingers…and it was good’. He begot a chorus of laughter among the kittens. Saying nothing else he cleared his throat and decided to chance something entirely different. ‘You know what…’ he said with feigned confidence, ‘these stories, are so, so boring…compared to the others…since you’ve already heard those how about I tell you a story that I myself have been working on since I was little…what I call…Rise of the Pridelands!’.

Sister Pollock gave him the exact look of perplexity he deserved but the kittens were all for this idea. So he recited everything he’d written and edited by candlelight since the day he arrived. It was the most singular moment of his life, not only by some miracle did he garner the kitten’s full attention but they were bottomless wells begging for the rain of adventures to keep on falling. It would’ve brought him to tears if it hadn’t been for the sudden thumping of a duck headed cane.

‘That will be all for today children!’ said old Nacknayer, gazing, wearing his best suit jacket, calfskin boots and felt hat from the back of the room, standing beside Sister Pollock whose saddened eyes were on the floor.

Res had gotten so excited that he hadn’t noticed her depart from the building or how long she’d been away.

The children obediently filed out of the room leaving the three of them alone.

‘So thought it best to impress upon those younglings your…wild fantasies, false prophecies, locations of mystical stones, ghosts, and...some race of sordid warriors called the Laughing Face….thought it best to spread these ignoble notions….for what fame?’.

‘Sir….….my imagination has kept me alive….given me more hours of pleasure, more food of the mind, more reason to live…than the teachings of Cat…and for you…to cast criticism on stories you won’t even listen to….’.

Nacknayer cut across him. ‘This is our farm’s time of recovery, and to recover we must obey the instructions passed down by Cat himself and not waste our minds on dark imaginings’.

‘Well if I forget more than what I’m told here and I’m inspired to create my own stories instead….aren’t I also listening to Cat’s instructions…?’.

Nacknayer was silent for a time and stared coldly at Res then he looked to the other cat in the room. ‘Miss Pollock, would you please locate brother Jackson, tell him we’ve got an STBB on our hands’.

Sister Pollock nodded and left the room with a sad backwards glance towards Res.

‘STBB?’ asked Res.

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

Last edited by JohnWillow on Thu Jan 05, 2012 8:13 pm, edited 1 time in total.

I wish to just say that I wrote nothing with the intention of mocking religious beliefs or anyone's lifestyle. I am simply writing about a community of cats living in simpler, controlled conditions in fear of the return of a destructive disease.

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

Throughout the hour unwanted wood was carried out to the loneliest field on the farm and piled together till it was several feet in height.

Atop the steeple the bell rung without end, the voice of a thousand generation’s answering the unasked question….are we doing what is right…and yes, every cat on the land gathering around this crooked amassment was in no doubt….each had the same sombre aversion towards the sin that arose this morning and so the bell gave them assurance that their actions were just and righteous.

Cat’s will could not be wrong.

Old Nacknayer soon stepped up to the pile with a lit fagot in hand. His every step was praised by his fellow cat and the greatest of all the cheers came when he set the pile alight.

When the flames tall and blazing Res was released from the barn. His hands were tied together and the strongest of the farm cats pulled him forward by means of a rope, the length of which seemed overly cautious till the booing crowd pelted him with old discarded crops.

A rucksack fit for a child was given to Nacknayer who asked if they’d left no stone unturned after looking through the contents. The amber cat assured him the house was clean and was asked step aside.

Nacknayer removed a pair of soft covered notebooks and held them up for all to see.

‘Brothers and Sisters!’ he cried, bringing all but himself to silence, ‘It is no great day when we are forced to burn items of sin off our land…it should pain us to be shown our own laxity…we did nothing for nearly two years as this youth scribbled his sacrilegious thoughts into these books…but let us be glad that his effrontery can no longer prosper....we burn his belongings but leave his body behind to be cleansed through gentler means……Brother Res….do you have any evidence to prove that these documents should be spared…or anything you wish to say?’.

Res looked up and said something he’d longed to say for ages. ‘I’m convinced that every cat here is basking in religious light….but they are just moths under one enormous bulb’.

‘If…that is all…’ said Nacknayer holding the books dangerously close to the flames.

Res’s heart was as loud as the tolling bell.

GONG….GONG….GONG….GO.......

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLNNNN….!!!!!

Most cats fell to their knees over the suddenness of the roaring explosion.

Their beloved steeple was fine one moment then it burst into pieces. A shower of mortar, brick and wood fell over the dodging spectators and the bell itself rolled high in the air and crashed through the roof the church.

‘Up there!’ shouted one of the cats and everyone looked and cried in his claws’ direction.

A strange red cumulous grew over church like a stooping giant. Two great eyes of gold glittering light appeared where the spire used to be. It sprung from the roof, contracting into one long stream like the white tail of an aeroplane, and came down on the farm cats at blistering speed….targeting only one…....

Old Nacknayer was whisked off his feet and tossed into the air.

As he spun through the stratosphere with a scream that’d make deaf cat put on earplugs the red cloud spun around the fire, not so much dousing but absorbing it, and with the flames the cloud dissipated leaving a young red fox standing proudly atop the charred lumber.

‘Oh, what a hit for the home team…’ shouted Tuneski as Nacknayer’s silhouette started to fall towards the hay bales in the stables, ‘and it….is….GOOOOOONNNEEEE!!!’.

‘The church is destroyed’. ‘I told you he was real!’. ‘Someone help Nacknayer’. ‘My children!’. ‘Kill them both!’.

Tuneski leapt down from his station, grabbed Res’s paw and the two of them took flight across the field going through the other cats like they were bowling pins. In the blink of an eye they had flown all the way to the well.

‘I’m going to close the door on you,’ said Tuneski helping Res into the secret cellar, ‘and I don’t want you to come out…okay?’.

‘O…Okay’ said Res.

The door seemed to shut by itself as a cluster of angry voices echoed down the shaft.

‘Down there!’. ‘He’s cornered’. ‘Bring the guns!’. ‘Blow the….’.

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFOOOOOO…….....

‘Uh…oh my…’.

‘OOOMMMMMMMMWWWWW…….....

‘RUN!!!’.

WWOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

Wed Jan 04, 2012 4:53 pm

copper

Puppy Wrangler

Joined: Tue Sep 28, 2010 8:18 pmPosts: 6352Location: Florida

Re: Wind Res - istance : Yet another Res Fic

Very interesting look into Res, and quite a back story!! Nicely done Mr. Willow.

Seems Kitsune has a soft spot for Res. Can't wait to see how what comes next.

_________________My charactersEverybody has a story to tell. What's yours?

I appreciate you taking the time to read this Mr Copper and i'm glad you enjoyed it.

I was going to take this in a completely different direction at one time but i'm glad i stuck with this story that expresses all my ideas without becoming a lengthy read. Hopefully i'll be able to post the last parts within a day or two.

It'll be fun to see how many of my ideas are similar to Rick's. I know it's nothing to boast about but i'm chuffed that i got the little things right, like him being a tea drinker and being tired of thinking about Pridelands.

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

‘Hello, my name is Sheila Auburn. I write for the town paper…Hogwash from the Horse’s Mouth….’.

‘Why yes…I reckoned you’d call once I saw yesterday’s paper’.

‘Would there be any chance I could get a few minutes of your time?’.

‘Miss…I wish not to comment much on our farm’s…personal business. What you…townsfolk saw the other day was nothing more than backed up waters spilling forth from a broken beaver dam’.

‘A beaver dam?’.

‘Yes, you know the one off River Pollyanna…it had a…structural failure…I don’t know what sort of…magic your man with the camera used but there was no forty foot high water fox on our property, especially not one playing Hacky Sack with a ball made out of compressed residents….’.

‘Mr Nacknayer, you’ve misunderstood my intentions, we’ve been receiving donations every minute of the day since those photos went out. All in aid of easing any financial troubles you’ll have in the future. When I last checked we’d collected over thirty-thousand dollars’.

‘Thirty-thousand…by the whiskers of Hogarth…!’.

‘Your community has always been a vital part of our town…’.

‘Well…we’d be glad to accept your generosity…’.

‘That’s wonderful to head…I can turn the donations we’ve received thus far into a cheque and deliver it to you sometime today in person, if you’d like’.

‘Yes, yes, by all means, we look forward to your arrival’.

*Click*

Nacknayer rocked in his chair dreaming of how to properly use that money but not ten seconds had went by when a red flash filled the room and the great demon fox stood before him.

‘That’s that…!’ proclaimed Tuneski, wiping his paws together.

‘That’s that…’ said Nacknayer, the chill of anxiety running through him.

‘Yep…like I promised, everything’s in its original place and everyone’s back on their feet’.

Nacknayer hopped around his desk. ‘I need you to reverse it!’.

The fox screwed up his face. ‘Excuse me?!’.

‘All because you done beat the cuss out of our town there’s a lady coming here with a cheque for a lot of money…if she sees that nothing’s wrong it’ll be the end of us…so just for a little while you got to make everything like it was…everything!’.

‘Dude....take a second to plan your words…’.

‘I don’t have a second!! She’s on her way!! Reverse it now!!!!’.

‘Alright…you’re welcome….’.

Tuneski clapped his paws reversing all of his magical input….

Nacknayer writhed on the floor with newly broken legs, a cracked rib and a dislocated shoulder.

*

Res packed all his things together, except for his work clothes, and waited at the main gate for Tuneski to finish with the repairs.

He didn’t dillydally to try and get that last false sense of connection by saying goodbye to anyone as they’d probably wish him luck out of fear or ignore him intentionally. He’d apologized enough, no sense in beating a dead horse as they say.

The right thing was always to come straight here and wait as long as it took.

Once everything was fixed they were going to leave the farm and live together…out in the wild…no rules…no work…no religion…perhaps not even a shelter…just the two of them and his notebooks…things would be tough but if worse comes to worst at least he had Tuneski’s magic…..

Of course he would use it economically….everyone has to struggle after all, everyone has to do menial, unfulfilling work because it gives them goals, drives them to correct themselves….not unlike his experiences on the farm….he supposed as bad as he had it he counted the farm as one of those necessary experiences….and he would never have written his stories half as well if he were somewhere better…but it wasn’t like he was going to miss this hateful place….no-sir-ree….….

He needed a distraction after a while so pulled out his notebooks. In one he finished doing edits on his current chapter then he redrafted the entire thing in the more expensive looking book with all his planned alterations. He was completely focused on it right up to the point he heard a car rolling up the all dirt road.

A young woman parked up near to him in a restored red DeLorean.

When she got out of the car and there was nothing of her hidden the world blurred around her like in those old movies, the looks of the hero’s love interest heightened by a trick of the camera. ‘Hey fella…do you live here?’ she asked.

‘Uh…’ said Res, gulping, overwhelmed by her looks. ‘No,’ he finally said, ‘not anymore…I’m uh….waiting on the shelter people’.

‘Oh…’ she replied, lifting her long auburn hair from under the strap of a camera bag, ‘ok, so, could you tell me which house belongs to Alvin Nacknayer?’.

Res turned and pointed into the distance. ‘The first one, the one with the big deck’.

‘Thanks sweetie’.

As she walked past and left Res stuck his eyes down and tried to carry on writing. With his eyes closed he thought of mountains and land dragons..….‘Is that fiction?’.

Res woke up and clutched his notebook to his chest with a yell. She was back.

‘Sorry,’ she said, kneeling beside him, ‘are you writing a story?’.

‘Uh…fiction…yea’ said Res, moving his tail end backwards.

‘I write too. I work for a newspaper and they sent me here to give the farm a donation cheque’.

‘That’s….thoughtful....’.

‘Aw, is somebody nerv-OW!’.

Res went white with fear of himself…he didn’t mean to…her hand came forward and he just…struck…..‘I’m sorry!’ he said in a breathy whine.

‘It’s my own fault’ she replied, sucking the back of her palm, somehow managing to look forgiving, ‘I just can’t help myself around cats’.

Res watched with a shudder as she returned to her car and looked for something to cover the wound with. He sprung up and ran to her.

‘Miss!’ he said, standing behind her, losing all sense of why he went over.

She was putting on a bandage she got from a medical kit as he arrived.

He didn’t mean to sound so stupid but the only thing he could say was ‘Res! My name…that’s my name, it’s Res’.

‘Ok, I’m Miss Sheila Auburn’ she laughed, still curled up and half inside the vehicle.

‘Would you….like to read this?’.

He knew she’d say no from the immediate look in her eyes but that’s not the answer she gave. ‘Sure sweetie’. He handed the book over and she cleaned up so she could sit on her front seat. She sat reading with pleasure, folding her brow, laughing at some odd sentence and actually turned.

Res had no expectations so anything was a compliment. He wanted to say so much but felt this moment didn’t need to be sugared with forced praises and she wouldn’t understand the story till she was further into it anyway. He relaxed and let her carry on. Sniffing the air he caught her scent which was so…familiar…like conifer trees and yellow leaves in autumn…she was obviously an outdoors sort of girl….just like…..

A few minutes later while in the middle of turning a page she looked up at him and froze.

‘Wh-What is it?’ asked Res.....no reply.

He curled his feature and waved a paw.

‘Miss Auburn…?’. Nothing......

Res knew somehow that Tuneski would be behind him…except it wasn’t Tuneski…it was…but not the same…instead of clay red with black legs his coat had gone a yellowish white and he had six…seven…no nine tails….the real Tuneski….he looked like something from his stories that he could never fully form a body for….and somehow by standing there he’d changed the air…scents came in unprecedented layers…some aged, some youthful, some familiar and some unearthly…like every scent ever discharged by existing things…..

‘I’ve stopped time so we can have a talk’ said Tuneski.

An echo followed his words as if they were in a great hall…in a sense they were…in the space of infinite happenings…birth, death and mixture all finding a gap to move through….

‘Alright’ replied Res.

Tuneski put his paw near to Res’s heart then he lifted it away pulling out something very odd and beautiful….it was a thread of some sort, as fine as a strand of hair, and around it like everything in this place swirled every colour now and yet to be.….

‘Is that my soul?’ asked Res, feeling…everything….

‘It’s a bit like that….’ said Tuneski, ‘this is a dream line, think of it like an emotion wire, it’s white during the day but when you fall asleep it bathes in the colour of your truest feelings, and if you had my ears you would hear it playing music…’.

‘Why isn’t mine white now?’.

‘Because I’m magic, you dummy!’.

‘Right…’.

‘You never see me, but I come and listen to you every night…your spirit hasn’t sounded like this in a long time’. He gave Res a special sort of knowing smile then he walked over to Miss Auburn and drew out her dream line.

‘Hers is the same colour’ said Res, gawking at it appreciatively.

‘This woman would be perfect for you’ said Tuneski.

‘But…we’re going it alone…’.

Tuneski shook his muzzle. ‘Res…farm life doesn’t suit you…stray life doesn’t suit you…you’ve always wanted an owner…you keep writing stories because your gram-gram loved stories…when she died you were never appreciated like that again…I’m not going to let you evade it another day’.

Most advice he’d ever heard went in one ear and out the other and inspired him where it may but perhaps because of this strange place it was as if the words were coming from his own conscience….all along he knew what his decision should be….but still.….

‘What if she doesn’t….’.

‘Convince her…!’.

‘So if I go with her…you won’t be coming…’.

‘Sorry. But that’s the beauty of omnipotence. I may not be around but I will be there’.

Res looked straight at Tuneski, wishing to cry and wishing to laugh and lots of other things. ‘I…have, no idea what to say here’.

‘I’m sure you’ll come up with the words…you’re a writer after all…I’m not one for hugs…so…fist bump?’.

‘Sure…!’.

There was a flash the moment they touched paws and Tuneski vanished along with the smells…and the feelings….

‘This first chapter is great!’ said Miss Auburn, moving as normal.

Res lowered his paw with embarrassment. ‘You don’t mean that’.

‘I mean everything I say....the descriptions are beautiful and you’ve set up your characters really well…there’s so much energy in the words….like you’ve written down what you want to say without making it convoluted and soulless….can I make a few suggestions though?’.

‘Suggest away’ said Res……utterly content.

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

Res pushed his paw into Duggan’s cheek just to be sure time had stopped and he wasn’t just meditating. ‘So…sorry, but are you here for something?’ he asked.

It had been nice giving each other an update on their lives but it wasn’t like they were conjoined at the hip.

‘Since you twisted my arm’ said Kitsune throwing the whole cup of tea over his shoulder like salt. ‘Each year the book club I’m part of gives out awards to its favourite stories. Your story was put in with all the works of science fiction, fantasy, any weird and wonderful junk that’s set on a world of its own. The author behind the winning story gets to meet the creator and have the world in his book turned into a real place. You my friend were said winner!’

‘Wow....’ said Res quite chuffed, ‘that’s amazing…but I’m sort of…’.

‘I know,’ interrupted Kitsune, ‘you’re taking a break from all that, well don’t worry, it’s not happening for a while. The big guy’s a little busy for the next month or more…gives you time to dream up a few things, don’t it…’.

POOF!!

Within the blink of an eye Res found himself sitting up in bed.

He sighed with disappointment. ‘I should’ve known…a girl would never give me her nu…’

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’

What Res didn’t take the time to realize was his bed was suspended a hundred feet in the air by balloons over the swimming pool in his backyard. As he plummeted towards the water he had just enough time to read the words spelled out with pool toys and floats.

OR WOULD SHE

The end…………or is it……..?

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

There's a lot i probably could've done with this story, just little things i could've added or improved upon, but i wanted to get through it quickly.

As far as future stories go i do have more ideas but like i said i've got plenty of course work that needs my attention before i attempt another fanfic but this was really fun to write and i hope i have as much success with my more personal written works that i have with this.

_________________Spike - "Seriously, a talking Dog is the weird thing about all this"

Me - "Not at all, the fact that you're a dog and not a lizard is much weirder"

Who is online

You cannot post new topics in this forumYou cannot reply to topics in this forumYou cannot edit your posts in this forumYou cannot delete your posts in this forumYou cannot post attachments in this forum